


Choke

by sleepdrunk



Series: Thank you for my pornography! [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 06:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdrunk/pseuds/sleepdrunk
Summary: “I can’t stop thinking about that night.”





	Choke

**I**

“Crowley-- I’m heading down to the shops, did you--” Aziraphale stopped stock-still in the bedroom door. 

He realized too late that the lights were dimmed and Crowley’s curtains were drawn, though it was broad daylight. 

Then, the sound of a choked off moan registered-- then the diffuse light on olive skin, bright hair mussed and unkempt-- Crowley, seated on his bed. Sparse peach fuzz on a wiry torso; a sheen of sweat not attributable to the midday heat alone. 

The head of a prick; barely hidden by a thumb. A fist, moving slowly up and down the shaft in the shadows. 

Crowley's hand, wrapped around his own neck-- long, strong fingers and a wide palm; tendons on the dorsal side showing pale with the effort of squeezing. His hand covered a respectable amount of the delicate column but couldn't quite do the job and the frustration came through somehow, though he didn't speak. 

Aziraphale turned on his heel and shut the door.

///

“Aziraphale, I’m--”

“Don’t even think of it. It’s fine. This is your-- your place. I should have knocked. Please don’t worry.” He closed the door with his heel, hoisting far too many shopping bags inside on his arms. 

“Yes, but--” He watched as Aziraphale unloaded the bags from his arms with a thud onto the cheap, peeling counters. Crowley folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the sink. “I just wanted to, I don’t know-- make sure you didn’t feel, er, you know.” 

“It’s fine.”

“_Angel_\--”

“You’re the one feeling-- _strange_. Clearly.” Aziraphale finally stopped putting groceries away like it was some kind of mission. How one could live this long and still not know how to _drop it _when told, I shall never know.” He huffed and crossed his arms, mirroring Crowley’s position. “I shouldn’t have-- I should have stayed with-- somebody else.”

“No. I want you here.” Crowley stood his ground, but his bare feet on linoleum and fucked-out hair took something away from the overall message. Still, his serpentine eyes glowed with intensity as he watched the angel evade him around the kitchen.

“You don’t. I don’t know what you want _Crowley._ All I know is that ever since we-- you know. _Rode beneath the crupper_\--”

“What?” His face went from _determined-to-have-this-here-chat_ to having his eyebrows become sentient and roam around the place. He stood firm. “What in blue blazes does that mean?” he spat.

“It’s a-- it’s a term--” Aziraphale turned a bit purple and busied himself once more with organizing the fridge, hiding his face. “It’s a term people use--”

“No it’s not, you anachronistic old sod.” 

“Crowley-- All I know is that we, ah--”

“Fucked.”

“He slammed the fridge door and sank his teeth into an apple. It was too cold, but he’d be damned if he admitted defeat by a stupid piece of fruit at that moment. 

“I just want to explain myself. I--”

“Your habits are none of my business. Drop it, if you please.”

“They could be.” 

_“What?”_

“It could be. Your business.” 

Aziraphale blinked. 

“I can’t stop thinking about that night.” 

///

“A few ground rules,” Aziraphale declared. They were sitting on the sofa, at opposite ends; starting into space. Enough blood had returned from his dick to his brain so that he could speak. 

“Sure. Shoot.” 

“Exclusive?” He felt weird saying it aloud. Even so, it felt a little too close to the truth for comfort. 

“I’m not fucking anyone else, so--” Crowley’s eyes were warm despite the retort and he was grinning at Aziraphale’s timidity; watching his nervous picking at his clothing.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Aziraphale.” 

He could feel Crowley’s softening gaze, smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Ha-- okay. Can I make a, uh. Request?”

“Definitely.” He turned slightly, tucking a foot under a long thigh and looked at Crowley. He grabbed a glass of ice water he’d forgotten he’d poured off of the side-table, and took a drink. 

“I want you to try dominating me.”

Aziraphale choked on the water mid swallow. 

///

Over the next few nights, they explored. It was new, but they’d covered a bit of ground already. Crowley trusted the angel implicitly. He wanted to hear that rough undertone-- the one he whipped out every now and then and it made Crowley’s knees a little weak and his face darken. He gulped. “Go for it.” 

Aziraphale faced him, shifting a bit closer on the cushions. His hair was clean and fluffy from drying in the air, the imprint of his sunglasses fresh on the sides of his nose. He rubbed at it, and pushed bangs off of his face. His gaze went from soft to hard in a second. 

“I saw you choking yourself.” Aziraphale extended his hand without hesitation and let it rest on the side of Crowley’s neck, thumb scratching his stubble. “Not only is that dangerous-- but it’s _my job._” 

///

Fooling around was easy. 

Crowley went through three bottles of lube. Aziraphale stopped using strange Victorian euphemisms and got used to asking for what he wanted; asking Crowley what he liked. What he needed. 

Then he got used to giving orders. Slowly; gently. 

“I trust you, come on.” Crowley wiggled his naked ass against Aziraphale’s fully clothed crotch, twisting back for a kiss. “Hard as hell. See?” He took Aziraphale’s hand and guided it to his cock, hard and leaking against his stomach.

“What if I--” he lost his train of thought for a moment as he took hold of Crowley’s dick and let himself grind up into him and breathed in his skin. “What if I’m too mean or-- ask for something weird and you don’t say no even though you want to-- oh, _fuck_\--”

In his lap, Crowley turned around and popped open the button of Aziraphale’s trousers and pulled down the zipper, pressing the length of his palm against his prick over his briefs. Aziraphale was panting and running his hands up and down Crowley’s arms; his eyes up and down his exposed body, mouth agape. He looked like a starving man presented with a buffet; like he couldn’t make up his mind but didn’t want to offend by diving in like he wanted to. Crowley gave a squeeze and ducked down to meet Aziraphale’s eyes. He stroked him and held his gaze, then popped his hand underneath the elastic of his briefs and stroked him, slowly.

“Oh, I get it. You don’t trust _me._ Well, I’ll just have to show you.” 

The angel’s voice was lost as Crowley stroked him-- this time, his palm slicked with saliva. He kissed Aziraphale as he did so, rising up so that his head was above him and the hand pumping Aziraphale’s cock trapped between them. He pushed Aziraphale’s elbow with his free hand without breaking their kiss, pushing his ass out as he helped Aziraphale’s hand find his hole.

Underneath him, Aziraphale gasped into the kiss as his fingers met silicone-- the flared base of a plug where he’d expected only flesh. 

“Try it on, babe.” Crowley pulled off too far for Aziraphale to reach, thumb resting between his teeth. He left Aziraphale’s cock to spring forward and it rested against Crowley’s inner thigh. “Tell me what to do.” He shivered. Aziraphale’s hand left the plug alone and he traced little circles in peach fuzz, pads of his fingers tapping and drawing squiggles on the soft skin of his upper thigh. He was quiet; but he was thinking and not worried-- so far. 

“St-- stand up.” The effort of letting go of Crowley’s body was visible on his face. He held his hand-- Crowley was shaky as he took a step backward off the couch without looking away from Aziraphale’s face. 

“Turn around.” Crowley did, releasing Aziraphale’s hand; but he kept it propped against Crowley’s hipbone like he couldn’t let go. He was standing just in front of Aziraphale, close enough that if Aziraphale were to lean forward he would feel his breath. Feeling suddenly more exposed than ever, Crowley was glad for the contact. He covered his chest with his arms and worried at his collarbone and looked back.

“That’s good, Crowley. Perfect.” Crowley’s breath fluttered in his chest. This was Aziraphale’s game now. 

“Now, spread your legs-- that’s it. Show me.”

Crowley did, and reached back to trace his fingers over the plug, a guttural sigh at the slight movement inside him. 

“I want you to play with it a little. Show me how ready you are. 

Bending at the waist, Crowley gripped the plug and made a show of it; his only anchor the warm hand at his hip. He covered Aziraphale’s hand with his own as he pulled the flared plug out; pushed it back inside, and twisted it around in circles that made him gasp and call out. Aziraphale’s breathing was rough. He scooted forward on the couch and kissed Crowley’s ass cheek. 

“Now come back here-- no, no; leave it. Push the plug back in, please.” 

Crowley turned around to face him. He popped the plug all the way back in and straddled Aziraphale once more. He leaned against him, supported by strong hands gripping the inside of his elbows and he succumbed to Aziraphale’s exploring kiss from above. 

“Now, show me-- I’m not gonna do this now, but, Crowley--” he found Crowley’s prick between them, pressed against his soft cotton shirt and leaving a streak of pre-come in the centre. He stroked him and met his eyes. “I won’t do it tonight. But I want you to show me where you want my hands on your neck.”

**II**

Crowley’s heart raced as he heard Aziraphale’s key in the lock. He leaned a hip against the kitchen island. 

He took deep breaths, resisting the urge to rush to the door. 

Neither said a word as Aziraphale slipped inside. Crowley heard the bolt fall into place, and the slide of the chain. A pair of boots fell to the floor and sock feet padded into the kitchen.

“Oh, _Crowley--”_

Crowley was naked except for a soft, short robe. 

Aziraphale walked toward him and took his chin in his hands. Crowley scanned his face and smiled, but didn’t move; waiting to be guided. 

Aziraphale held him and kissed him. Naked, toned skin against a soft shirt and crisp denim. Crowley guided Aziraphale’s hand down to his cock, hard and leaking already. He draped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck while he explored.

He was lubed and ready. Just like they had arranged. A wide, strong hand bent him over the kitchen counter. Another played with his cheeks, thumb tracing and teasing around his hole. 

“_Crowley_\--” Aziraphale repeated. His breath traced over his bare skin. Crowley's toes curled around the edge of the footstool he stood on. His face was pressed into the cool surface, edge leaving an indent low down on his belly. He tilted his hips back, breathing hard. Aziraphale stroked his back. “Are you ready?”

“F-- yes. Since I got home.” Slender fingers brushed up and down over his hole. He groaned and canted his hips, seeking. Aziraphale’s breath stuttered above him and he sank a finger inside.

“Fuck,” Crowley huffed, head falling forward. 

Aziraphale worked the finger in and out of his hole, circling around fluttering. 

“That’s what I like to see--,” he said; his voice carefully measured and soft. 

He pressed a second digit inside along with the first and took his time about it; teasing and fluttering, twisting around in a way that was driving Crowley wild-- but not quite enough.

“I changed my mind. I want you on the bed. Come on.” He pulled away and Crowley felt empty and cold but as he stood Aziraphale was there; hand around his waist.

///

Aziraphale’s breath sped up, warming Crowley’s shoulders now. He disappeared for a second, the sound of a condom foil being chucked to the side and the rubber being slicked on and he was back. He nipped at an ear; the barest hint of a bite like he couldn’t resist and then fucked him with one, then two, and then a third well-lubricated finger. A possessive hand under Crowley’s chin urged him gently back and Aziraphale kissed his face. He pressed his cock against his entrance. 

He slid inside, deeper than the fingers could. Crowley was ready and aching for it-- and he had been for hours. They sighed in unison as he pressed inside-- low, breathy; relieved. Crowley arched his back. He loved the stretch, and knowing that he had yet to be completely filled-- that Aziraphale wasn’t even all the way in yet. It took a little bit to get used to his size, but it was always worth it. 

The metal of a zipper scraped his thigh, along with the shape of a belt buckle and hard leather. 

Aziraphale pulled out and palmed Crowley’s ass. “I want you on all fours, Crowley.”

He knelt in front of Aziraphale on his knees and elbows. Crowley felt like he was on edge, every second more desperate for-- something, but everything was too much. He heard the sound of fabric being pulled off of long legs and falling to the floor.

Aziraphale moved his knees inside and behind Crowley’s and lined his cock against his entrance again. He slid inside without hesitation and rolled his hips down. 

Stretched and full; Crowley panted. Aziraphale cupped the globe of his spread cheek with one hand, pressing his fingers into the flesh. He pulled out half-way while he stroked the tender skin between Crowley’s belly and groin. Crowley shuddered, gooseflesh erupting up and down his arms. Aziraphale pushed back inside, his movements taking on a determined tone, enough to make the headboard shake in time. 

With just a suggestion from his fingertips and Crowley sank into the arch. He moved out slowly until just the head of his cock was inside, and thrust back in again. 

He started a rhythm, pulling out with each backstroke and going back inside slowly but hard. It had Crowley moaning deep in his throat as he struggled to stay balanced on his forearms. Aziraphale picked up his pace. Skin slapped against skin, fingers digging into Crowley’s hips and he groaned with each new thrust. “Fuck-- please. Put your--” he moaned in frustration and exposed his neck to Aziraphale. He closed his eyes. 

A hand soothed his back. 

“Tell me.” He rolled his hips a fraction, and Crowley almost collapsed on the bed. 

“Choke me. Aziraphale, just--” his voice quiet, but firm. _“Please.” _ This was Aziraphale and despite everything, he would never humiliate him. He was giving him what he needed.

“Okay.” 

Aziraphale pushed his cock back inside and kissed Crowley’s shoulder-- before taking his neck in both hands. 

Just that feeling-- the roughened, warm skin wrapping around his neck. Vulnerable as hell, but somehow protective. Aziraphale guided him back and he could no longer quite reach the bed except with the tips of his fingers and the loss of balance had the blood rushing from his head. His only anchor now were the hands on his neck-- calloused palms slick with sweat, fingers sticky with lube-- wrapped almost the entire way around; thumbs against the nape of his neck. Aziraphale fucked him hard and fast and hit his prostate every few thrusts; grunting as he went. 

He squeezed Crowley’s throat a little harder, putting pressure on his carotid. In his fantasies it was an all out _choke_, but this-- as Aziraphale fucked into him harder and Crowley scrambled for balance before giving himself over, he started to see a few little stars in his vision. He could still use his voice but all he did was gasp out in staccato rhythm, arching his back and losing himself to the pleasure. He never wanted it to stop; he felt like his body was hurtling over a cliff that never quite ended, leaving him in limbo.

Aziraphale took pity on him and, easing off his neck, leaned him forward. He slowed down almost to a stop and stroked Crowley’s back . 

“All right?” Aziraphale asked.

_“Christ-- _yes._”_

One hand still held his neck. 

“Where do you want my hand?” Aziraphale fucked him lazily and waited for an answer. 

Crowley said nothing, but he let out a soft cry and rocked back on Aziraphale’s dick. Aziraphale smacked him, ever so lightly. “Crowley?”

“Here--” he softly but clearly. He tapped his neck. “Please.” 

Crowley purred.

“Are you sure? You’ll have to get yourself off--” growled against Crowley’s ear. His lip stuck to the lobe and Crowley shuddered at the sensation of hot breath, Aziraphale’s stubble on damp skin and Crowley’s own freshly shaved face. 

He eased Crowley back up, and his only point of balance was the body behind him and the thick cock inside. Aziraphale slowly added pressure to his neck, slowing the blood supply. The sensation was more intense than he’d anticipated. 

Crowley fumbled for his own dick, almost losing his balance with each unrelenting stroke, and had back for Aziraphale’s hip for stability. He could feel Aziraphale watching him out of the corner of his eye; groaning like he wanted to lose himself, but was concentrating on Crowley’s every reaction intently. He opened his lips against Crowley’s temple, and Crowley nodded before Aziraphale could even ask the question. 

He let his head loll back against Aziraphale’s shoulder and he came over his closed fist. 

Aziraphale held him as the waves of pleasure rolled through him, a soft hand draped over his neck as he took in huge gulping breaths. 

Still deep inside him and hard as a rock, Aziraphale shook with the effort of keeping still. He pumped in and out again, slowly at first. Crowley mewled helplessly, overwhelmed and spent. 

Crowley collapsed forward and Aziraphale followed him down, holding his hips off of the bed with his forearm. Aziraphale plowed him into the mattress, Crowley’s face turned to the side against plush blankets. Losing his rhythm completely, Aziraphale jerked and shuddered, pushing as deep inside as he could and not withdrawing. 

He shouted as he finally came, leaving desperate kisses and nips across Crowley’s back. 

///

Crowley lay there panting, in a daze. Ragged breaths ran through his hair as Aziraphale calmed, and then gingerly pulled out. He turned away for a second, and the condom landed somewhere that sounded enough like the wastepaper basket. Arms ran around Crowley’s waist, running soothing strokes up and down his hot skin as if to centre the both of them. His limbs heavy and liquid and he flopped back against Aziraphale, meeting his eyes and parting his lips for a kiss. 

“You’re so good for me,” Aziraphale said; between slow, luxuriant kisses. He pulled a duvet over their bodies. “Always, so good…” He held Crowley’s head in the crook of his arm, rubbing circles into his back until Crowley’s eyes were drooping and they fell asleep, entwined. 

**Author's Note:**

> I left some things unresolved that I would like to expand on later.... 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Come and yell at me on my [tumblr](https://lovelybydecay.tumblr.com/).


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